


Tourist Traps

by Shocotate



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28495179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shocotate/pseuds/Shocotate
Summary: While on an errand during their training in Dublith, Ed and Al sneak off to watch a movie.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: FMA Secret Santa 2020





	Tourist Traps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustAnotherGhostwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/gifts).



> This is my gift for Justanotherghostwriter for fmasecretsanta on tumblr. I enjoyed writing about Ed and Al, and I always loved the fly movie that gets mentioned in the manga, so I'm glad I got the chance to make a fic sorta about it :)

“We’d better head back, Brother. Teacher’ll notice we’ve been gone too long,” Alphonse murmured as he and his brother squeezed and broke through a gap in the crowd. The two boys left the squashed bakery, their arms bundled up with a paper bag apiece. He couldn’t be sure if the bakery was famous, like how Teacher’s butcher shop seemed to be, or if she had just sent them there at a busy time.

The air in Dublith seemed to shake, full of noise and heat, alive but different to the sounds of nature like back home, or back on Yock Island. No gentle waves on the lakeshore, the breeze or birds or grasshoppers, only a constant hum of people, all curious and chattering between themselves in a place they hardly knew. Must have been what people called tourists, soaking up the sights and the southern sun. Technically _they_ were tourists, too, though they’d experienced the natural side of Dublith way closer than most. If the _Summer Guide to Dublith_ pamphlets and the radio were to be believed, afternoon boat rides on the lake were going on constantly now that the season had begun. The younger boy wondered if Teacher could have stranded them on the island if they had become her apprentices any later in the year. Maybe Mason would have called it a camping trip.

“ _Relax_ , the queue was massive enough to hold us up _this_ long, anything longer works. She’ll just think we can’t find everything on the list,” Brother said, fanning himself with the shopping list before shoving it into his pocket, “We were stuck on that island forever; we gotta explore a little. We can just say we got lost! This place is _big_ , and we’ve hardly left Teacher’s house since we got back, how can we _not_ get lost, even on a trip like this? Plus it counts as more exercise, she’ll like that. Fresh air ‘n’ stuff.”

“You’re right, Brother. We could say we were at the library, doing research.” Though they hadn’t managed to visit yet, apart from Teacher’s house, Al thought that might be the _only_ peaceful part of town.

“Now you’re getting it.” Brother smirked, darted on ahead through the bustling streets, and Al held the bread and pastries closer as he rushed after. They passed someone shouting about a competition to win the shiny new car sitting under a wide tent. All they had to do was keep their hand on it the longest.

It seemed _everything_ was bigger in Dublith, even the prizes. Alphonse thought about the sheep festivals back home, watching and seeing who could shear a sheep the fastest, or try winning a jar of sweets guessing the weight of the wool afterwards. One year, a travelling fair brought a merry-go-round, ‘specially made for the festival’ with a badly carved ram replacing one of the horses.

_Why didn’t you pick a horse like us, Brother?_

He had gotten a splinter off it.

_The horses were boring. If you’re gonna go all out carving somethin’, it should have wings, like Pegasus. And a horn, and fangs! Least a ram has horns!_

Mr and Mrs Rockbell took it out for him, though Winry helped, teasing him for picking a fight with a ram during the festival, keeping him distracted. Brother had boasted, saying it would be the biggest splinter ever, sniffing like it didn’t hurt at all. Al tried remembering it, but nothing came to mind. Must have been too small to see.

Al watched his brother give it a second glance, slowing just a little,

“Not worth burning yourself over a car like that,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s part of the challenge, Brother. It’s just about being patient.”

“Hope they’ve got oven gloves on, then.”

“I bet they do this all the time, they have to have took the weather into account and properl--” The man yelled _start!_ and the brothers watched them all press a hand on the metal for half a second before tearing away with yelps and gasps. A few of them swore. Except for one guy, leaning his whole weight on the car pretty much, until he seemed to notice everyone else and pulled away too. “Oh.” Al frowned, hoping they hadn’t burnt themselves too badly, wishing he knew any medical alchemy. Maybe after Mom was back. If they did, maybe she wouldn’t have…

“Told ya. Not even a cool car.” Brother’s voice stopped his daze before it started, his gold eyes wandering from the car to the man, him asking the host if that counted as winning. “You gotta stand out on the roads, if you get to own a _car_ , you gotta go big.”

Thankfully, they barely walked ten more steps before something else caught his brother’s eye. In front of Dublith Cinema, a wooden sign near the entrance was marked in big red ink.

 **THE FLY RETURNS**

Hm? A vague memory of the spring, before they became Teacher’s apprentices, wavered in his mind. Something about a Fly-Man from some transmutation gone wrong.

“No way! Another one? C’mon, little brother, we gotta see this!”

“What happened to the ‘fresh air’?” Al smirked.

“We got plenty of that on the island. We deserve to relax and see something cool for once.”

As they stepped in through the wide open glass doors, another rush of warm air hit them in the face, the long, fluffy red carpet shifting under their feet, and the faint smell of popcorn and lemonade wafted out from behind the ticket booth. Just from the popcorn, the memory of that night rushed back, huddled in the tent with the rain pattering on the roof and the old projector clicking, what the travelling filmmaker had called _movie night in Resembool,_ bringing a dozen film rolls with him. Winry liked the _Rush Valley Detective_ best, and of course they the one all about alchemy, even when it went wrong (and Winry hid her face behind their shared popcorn bag). Secretly though, Alphonse liked the one about the kitten and the vet the best.

“Wow,” his brother grinned, and as he dashed up to the front desk Alphonse glanced over at the posters lining the walls to the heavy looking doors of the screen room.

**_Saturday afternoon special! ~~500~~ 250 cenz per ticket_ **

**_The Adventures of Beast Tamer Bill. Special guest this week!_ **

**_The Ten Million Cenz Mystery_ **

**_Nessie Strikes Back_**

“Two tickets for the Fly movie, please.” Brother chirped in his politest voice, teeth gleaning under the lights, tapping his 500cenz coin on the desk.

“Sorry, boys, pre-show’s already started, can’t let you in. Next showing’s in an hour, but you’ll need an adult’s permission before I can sell you the tickets.”

“… _You’re_ an adult.” Brother pointed out, and also actually pointed.

“Nice try,” said the man, “long way to walk or somethin’?”

As if they could go back to Teacher now and expect to be let go again.

“We don’t live here, we’re saying with Teache— _Mrs Curtis_ , from the butchers’.” His brother said it as if he could strike the man down with fear at the name, like speaking it was itself way too daring. Al flinched a little. The man did not. It only worked on _them._

“All the same to me, I’ll need t’see some proof. Come back and bring someone with ya. _Or_ , just stick around; _The Sick Kitten_ is on next. You kids wanna see that instead?”

“Psh, no way. That’s baby stu--uhh,” he hesitated, eyes flicking to him and then back to the man, “I mean, we’ve seen that already!”

“Mhm.” Al smiled, remembering the mother cat in her apron, protecting her tiny kitten until the vet arrived with the medicine.

“Hmph, fine, we’ll be back!” Brother pouted and stomped back out through the doors with way too much noise, Al following after, until he spun around and caught his arm. He dragged him down the corner street beside the cinema, out of sight.

“Psst, Al, keep watch while I make us a way in.” Brother said, dumping the second bakery bag on him and feeling around at the wall.

_What._

“Br-Brother, you can’t!” They’d barely started Teacher’s _Training From Hell Part A_ , messing with architecture was way off the table.

Past him, Al spotted a group of boys knocking on a spot further down.

“Brother, look there.” Al squeaked, trying to hold both bags in his arms and also get his attention. He wobbled closer.

“Bricks, so clay, account for any copper wiring – and we’ll need a stone to draw with…”

“ _Brother_ , look!” He pointed with one bag clasped in his hand, only just missing Brother’s face. He went cross-eyed at his fist before inching back and turning his head.

“Oh, must be the backdoor. Good job, lil bro. Stealth works, too.”

Teacher always said not to rely on alchemy for everything if there was another way to fix a problem. Now was probably one of those times, and a way that didn’t require drawing on and then creating a new door from a wall. Al sighed and told himself that compared to rearranging the building, sneaking in through the backdoor would end less disastrously for everyone if (when) someone (Teacher) caught them.

The backdoor, apparently used in case of a fire, led to the boy’s bathrooms. They slipped out one by one so no one could see way more leaving than had ever gone in. There was no need to bother, though, as Al pushed past the door, the faint lights of the enormous room left only vague shadows visible outside of the spotlight on the stage. He gasped, following the screen along, stretched from one wall to the other, wider than the tent they had watched the movie in. The seemingly endless seats covered the wall opposite, kids from the higher rows shooting paper through straws at the ones below.

“I’ll get the seats, you get the food.” Brother grinned at all the spare seats, handing him a 500 cenz coin to go with his own before taking the food bags with him.

The musician huddled in the corner of the stage near some strange machine Alphonse had never seen before, waving his hands near to an antenna on the side like he was conducting. In the centre, a lady with a red and white chequered tray strapped over her neck, filled with small ice cream tubs, was smiling and waving around a goodie bag for anyone who had had a birthday recently, the bright edge of another poking out a pocket on her apron.

“It’s _your_ birthday _every_ week,” she laughed, shooing a boy away with one hand and holding her tray steady with the other. If Brother had been here, Al thought with a wry grin that he might say it was his birthday. Who would know?

He came away with two tiny vanilla tubs for one of their two 500 cenz coins. Whether these were cinema prices or just _Dublith cinema_ prices Al couldn’t be sure, but it was too late to say he’d share now.

“Al! I’m over here! Al! No, this way!”

After stumbling around in the dark and falling up a few stairs, Alphonse finally managed to place Brother’s voice bouncing off the walls and reach their seats, right in the middle.

“What’d you get?” he asked as Al settled in his seat, back to wafting the shopping list at his face.

“Ice cream. I got you one, too,” Al said, watching Brother’s face scrunch up like he’d bitten a lemon.

“Wasting the money Teacher gave us on _milk_ ,” he hissed like some milk-hating cat, which Alphonse doubted was possible, pushing further into his seat as if to get away from it.

“There was no popcorn left.”

“You took my only cenz, now I’m gonna _starve_.” Brother stuck his tongue out, like he’d forgotten all about the heat.

“Fine, more for me.” _Stubborn_. Letting his brother stew, Al dug in with the wooden stick and popped a chunk in his mouth. Ah, he let it melt on his tongue, completely refreshing already.

 _…and then it swallowed him whole! Can’t believe ya missed it!_

Further off, the boys who’d let them in were half shouting half whispering about the pre-show serial, by the sounds of it.

 _He’ll be fine. He’s gonna help him. They’d never kill Bill like that!_

_Bet Nessie ate something bad and Bill’s gonna help!_

“Yeah, like _milk_ ,” Brother grumbled, folding his arms, but not enough to risk crushing the bread. He shuffled lower and laid the bag stood up on the floor.

 _No way, you hafta see it._

_It’s on again tomorrow, right?_

“It’s not like _real_ milk, Brother. It’s been made into something better, like with stew.” Al pushed the second tub further along the chair arm, leaving it there until either the ice cream or his brother melted in the heat.

 _I saw ’em filming on the lake!_

_No you didn’t, they make em’ all in Central._

The lights dimmed.

_Quiet, it’s starting!_

The children on the row above only laughed and shot down more paper balls.

Al watched the black and white flicker by, way better than that hazy night in the tent, the familiar alchemist appearing, knelt down and carving out his two near identical circles. Long, eerie notes poured from the stage, though from the silhouette of the man it looked like he was just moving his hands in the air. Back in Resembool, the musical saw had sounded just as eerie in the hazy night air, and Al hid any trembles between swallows of ice-cream.

The text screen mentioned his teleportation alchemy experiment, trying to help the people as all alchemists were meant to. It could be useful in some ways, Al supposed. He remembered the train ride to Dublith, thinking it would be a shame to not be able to see the scenery darting past, or the sudden darkness when going through a tunnel. Though, being instantly able to go anywhere would be amazing. He could visit Granny and Winry between training sessions and get back before lunch.

 _Actually don’t think about lunch_ , Al winced to himself, hoping Teacher hadn’t gone out hunting for them yet. He missed Granny and Winry of course, but there was still so much to learn here.

“Hey, didn’t we see this part before?” Brother whispered as the fly crawled into the transmutation circle. It did seem exactly the same as then, though no longer from over people’s heads and sometimes behind their fingers, though neither of them would admit that.

“It must be a bit to show what’s happened earlier, in case you didn’t see the first one.” Al suggested, though showing every detail and speech card didn’t seen necessary, in his opinion.

“Extremely long recap.” Ed mumbled with his knees tucked up, resting his ice cream tub on them. Whether he was trying to hide the screen with it, or was close to accepting common sense, Al couldn’t be sure yet.

“ _Extrrmlh_ ,” he echoed, watching the Fly-Man’s rampage with a shiver he tried passing off as brain freeze, gulping more ice cream, until it came to and end.

“Sweet, guess they’re showing both together.” Brother’s voice muffled, like he was eating something. Aha.

The room went dark, with only tiny white letters left on the screen.

**THE END**

And the lights went up just in time for Al to see his brother leap to his feet, half empty tub in hand and spoon poking out the corner of his mouth.

“…WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!”

Al was impressed he didn’t spit the spoon halfway across the cinema.

_See? Told ya the book’s better._

“Seems like the end, Brother. Come on, we have to go before--”

Brother ignored him, hopping down the steps two at a time, turning the corner to the double doors.

_Where ya going? It’s this way!_

Some of the boys from earlier tried to call after them from the toilets, but they weren’t going to ignore a distraction from their own escape when they saw it, dashing off through the backdoor.

“Hey!”

“You two again?” If the man at the front desk was surprised to see them entering the lobby the wrong way, he hid it well.

“Your sign said ‘ _The Fly Returns’_ , but that was just the regular Fly! What gives, old man!”

“Yeah, returns…to Dublith, we’re showing it again. Sequel’s not ‘til next week. Gotta read the small print, kids.

“That’s just tricking people!”

“You’re talking like you _didn’t_ sneak in.”

“We _wanted_ to pay. Didn’t we, Brother?” Al slipped his 500 cenz coin onto the desk, nudging his brother in the ribs the tiniest bit.

“But we were lied to, so I demand a refund!” and he snatched the coin right back.

Al sighed, inching his way along to the open doors, hoping Brother would follow. And if not, he could be a lookout like he wanted earlier. He poked his head out first just in case—

and spotted a pair of W.C. slippers along the path.

 _Oh._

Their eyes met even as Al ducked back inside so hard he almost fell over.

 _Oh no._

“I can take you on! I fear no…only _one_ \--ack” Thankfully, Brother was there to catch him, expected or not. “Hey, what’s wrong, Al?”

His face softened with worry, and then dread. _She’s here,_ he might have squeaked too quietly to hear, but his brother’s face fell all the same.

“…Oh.”

They stood and trembled together, trapped like their many snared rabbits, watching for those slippers to come slamming down on the entrance carpet.

Until they did.

“Well, I hope you make better apprentices than errand boys,” Teacher said, no louder than normal, but it might as well have been deafening, “What do you call this?”

Clinging to each other with the bags squashed between them, the brothers grimaced and shivered way worse than any brain freeze or scary film. Brother put the coin back on the table.

“Uhh… alchemy research?”


End file.
